lowly down the Hill with a shadow upon him, like a man
who has passed through a sudden danger, or who has had a sudden
glimpse into the dark realities of life. But the whole experience was
so strange and dreamlike, so apart from the wholesome current of his
life, that his fears troubled him less than he had supposed; still, a
kind of hatred for the quiet valley began to creep over him, and he
found himself sitting long over his books, looking down among the
hills, and making no progress. If he was not silent when in company
with the old Vicar, it was because he made a strong effort, and
because his courtesy came to his assistance. Indeed the old Vicar
thought that he had never known Gilbert so tender or thoughtful as he
had been in the last week of his visit. The truth was that it was an
effort to Gilbert to talk about himself, and he therefore drew the old
priest on to talk about the details of his own life and work. Thus,
though Gilbert talked less himself, he was courteously attentive, so
that the old man had a sense that there had been much pleasant
interchange of feeling, whereas he had contributed the most of the
talk himself. Gilbert, too, found a great comfort in the offices of
the Church in these days, and prayed much that, whatever should befall
him, he might learn to rest in the mighty will of God for himself,
whatever that will might be.

Soon after this he went back to Cambridge, and there, among his old
friends and in his accustomed haunts, the whole impression of the
vision on the Hill of Trouble grew faint and indistinct, especially as
no incident occurred to revive it. He threw himself into his work, and
the book grew under his hands; and he seemed to be more eager to fill
his hours than before, and avoided solitary meditation.

Some three years after the date of his vision, there was announced to
him by letter the advent of a great scholar to Cambridge, who had read
one of Gilbert's books, and was desirous to be introduced to him.
Gilbert was sitting one day in his rooms, after a happy quiet morning,
when the porter came to the door and announced the scholar. He was a
tall eager man, who came forward with great friendliness, and said
some courteous words about his pleasure at having met one whom he was
so desirous to see. He carried something in his hand, and after the
first compliments, said that he had ventured to bring Gilbert a little
curiosity that had lately been dug up at Rome, and which he had